


Having Coffee

by dornfelder



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Alternate Reality, Fix-It, Future Fic, Infidelity, M/M, Meta, interview format, it always happens in Paris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-23 07:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23140909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dornfelder/pseuds/dornfelder
Summary: In a world where Mark Chapman doesn’t shoot John Lennon, the Beatles reunite in 1982. In 1983, John and Paul are outed by the tabloid press.It’s 2020, and two journalists are on their way to meet them in their home in Central London.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 46
Kudos: 113





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In case you would prefer to read the work _without_ the work skin (but with paragraph breaks and standard html formatting), chapter 2 is your friend.  
>   
> Many thanks to Kreevey and Vaysh for concrit and inspiration.

  


#### Having Coffee

  


#### With

  


#### John Lennon and Paul McCartney

  


##### by Laura Friedman and Thomas H. Baker

It’s February 2020. Sir Paul McCartney (77) and John Lennon (79), founding members of the renowned band The Beatles and one of the most iconic gay couples in history, have invited us for a candid interview into their home in Central London. The two of us have been writing about the music business for years, but even for us, it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get a glimpse into the minds of two living legends.  
Lennon and McCartney prefer to keep their lives private. On their rare public appearances, they tend to avoid answering personal questions – less than surprising, considering the decades of near-constant media attention they had to endure since the Beatles first rose to fame in the early sixties. Their invitation comes at a time where they are living in retirement, splitting their time between their home in London, McCartney’s farm in Scotland, and Lennon’s apartment in New York City. As far as we know, it’s the first time that journalists are allowed on one of their properties.  
We are invited in by Carol McLane, McCartney’s London housekeeper and personal assistant, who tells us that “Paul and John will be down to meet you in a minute.” She leads us into a lovely, light-filled conservatory at the back of the house, dominated by a grand piano and with a table set for four.  
McLane offers us tea, coffee, and fresh scones, confiding that Lennon insisted on baking them himself.  
We jokingly ask whether these scones contain anything that they shouldn’t – after all, both John Lennon and Paul McCartney have a history of substance abuse, especially in earlier years – but McLane assures us Paul and John are no longer consuming recreational drugs at their advanced age.  
Another member of the Lennon/McCartney household joins us after a moment. Janet, a charming, golden brown labrador retriever, has found a home here in London with two of the most famous musicians in the world. We are also introduced to two tabby cats, Nora and Gandhi, dozing on a huge black sofa in the sitting room. We are given to understand that there is a joke involved here – while Janet is Paul’s, the cats belong to John, and they all get along splendidly, despite being … well, like cats and dogs.  
Lennon and McCartney enter the conservatory not long after that. Both are casually dressed: Lennon is wearing jeans and a sweater, McCartney plain gray trousers and a white dress shirt. For two men in their late seventies, both look astonishingly fit. As we say so, McLane’s laughter rings through the room. Lennon flashes us one of his trademark grins. “We're not dead yet.”  
McCartney’s lion’s mane has grown silver. Lennon, still wearing glasses, has cut his hair short in the late nineties but kept his beard. He walks with a slight limp, relying on a cane whenever he leaves the house.  
Lennon tells us that have been around for long enough that they are no longer concerned with their public image. Even so, they haven’t forgotten how to charm the press, and we find ourselves sitting in the sunshine, enjoying scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam, laughing at McCartney’s jokes and Lennon’s quips – feeling privileged to share this moment with them.  
After a bit of small talk, we’re curious to know why the two of them decided to grant us this rare opportunity. Is there anything in particular that they would like to talk about?  
No, McCartney assures us, it’s just that they both felt we had been doing a good job with our interviews and decided they wouldn’t mind talking to us.  
“After 1983, the questions never went away,” he says. “For a long time, we didn’t feel like answering them. Now, perhaps, we can.”  
“We’re going to give you a part of it,” Lennon says. “Not all.”  
The time where Lennon invited reporters into his bedroom for the famous “Bed-ins for Peace” with his former wife Yoko Ono in 1969 is long past.  
John Lennon continues to be an activist to this day, describing himself as a left-leaning intellectual with strong political views, but his avant-garde days are irrevocably over. These days, he carefully guards his privacy. Or, as he states it, “At some point, I stopped craving public attention.”  
“At some point”, we assume, refers to the notorious Beatles reunion tour in 1982 and 1983, where Lennon and McCartney’s sexual relationship was first revealed to a less than tolerant public.  
It all started in April 1981 when bandmates Lennon, McCartney, and Harrison attended drummer Ringo Starr’s wedding with Barbara Bach. As the hired musicians were talking a break, Lennon and McCartney spontaneously took over the stage with an impromptu performance of some of their greatest hits. Their unexpected gig was met with unbridled enthusiasm. When it made the headlines the very next day, it sparked a new, worldwide interest in a Beatles reunion.  
“I think all of us knew we had to give it another try after that,” McCartney says. “Surprisingly, it was George who really had to be persuaded. He’d become very successful as a solo artist and wasn’t keen on stepping back and reprising what he thought of as a supporting role.”  
The Beatles finally reunited in fall 1981, planning a world tour with eighty concerts in twenty-two countries. Depending on its success – or, as McCartney phrases it, their “ability to work together on stage” – they intended to return to the studio at a later point to work on a new album. The band started rehearsing their old songs and spent two months working to achieve what Lennon describes as “some sort of sound that wasn’t just noise”.  
“It felt important to us not just to deliver a routine performance of our old songs, but to rediscover the meaning behind them – the spirit, if you will, that drove us to make them in the first place,” McCartney says.  
Lennon immediately puts his partner’s words into perspective: “Not that there was a whole lot of meaning behind some of them, mind you.”

**1**

Asked whether there were disagreements over which songs to play during the tour, Lennon laughs. “Plenty. We found a way to work it out.” While we’re still trying to figure out whether this reference to one of the Beatles’ most popular songs was intentional, Lennon smirks. “It drove Paul nuts when we all objected to his favorites, though.”  
McCartney scrunches up his nose, not looking very happy at the reminder. Apparently, some old wounds are slow to heal.  
Lennon picks up on it too. “We were all sick to the death of ‘Yesterday’. Do you know how much that song had been haunting me? It was a Paul song, and everyone kept bringing it up all the time. It was like a curse I just couldn’t escape.”  
“Even I got tired of playing it at times,” McCartney concedes after a moment.  
Lennon’s motives for agreeing to the tour were the subject of much speculation. He’d never made a secret of the fact that he considered many of the early Beatles songs juvenile and seriously flawed. Money, of course, was cited as a factor, but Lennon himself tried to pass it off as a case of nostalgia. “I’ve come to accept that the music we made still means a lot to a lot of people,” he was quoted in a New York Times interview. “There are many great Beatles songs that we never got to perform life, which is a pity.”  
The Beatles started their reunion tour with a concert in Liverpool in July 1982. It was their first regular stage performance since the late 1960s.  
Across six continents, a new Beatlemania broke out. The Beatles, supported by new electronic equipment, were finally able to be heard on stage, and their performances were widely praised by critics.  
The tour rekindled a worldwide interest in all things Beatles-related – as well as an unhealthy interest in their private lives.  
The notable absence of Yoko Ono, who had been Lennon’s creative partner since the late Beatles days, sparked rumors. She hadn’t joined her husband on tour, saying, “This is something John has to do for himself,” which immediately led to speculation about an impending divorce.  
Linda McCartney, who had initially visited Paul on weekends along with their children, stopped doing so while the band was touring the United States. The press took it as a sign that the tour was taking a toll on their marriage, something she confirmed in an interview shortly before Christmas: “It’s hard, with Paul being away from us for so long. I know this is important to him, and it’s just as important to me to support him any way I can.”  
“The tour was very exhausting,” McCartney says. “But we had our old songs and knew how to play them, so there was very little left to argue about. That made it an experience I believe we all enjoyed. John and I even started working on new material between shows. In Berlin, on our day off, all four of us went into a little studio to record ‘Never Better’. It was great to see that the spark between us was still there. But I think we knew even then that a new Beatles album wasn’t going to happen.”  
“Never Better”, a rocky tune with plenty of references to their shared past, immediately made it to the top of the charts in thirteen different countries and was consequently added to the roster. Critics were quick to call it one of the best Lennon-McCartney co-productions of all times. George Harrison and Ringo Starr confessed they liked the song, but Harrison also voiced his discontent with the way Lennon and McCartney had handled the recording process. “It was John-and-Paul, Paul-and-John all over again; as if Ringo and I didn’t exist.”  
Harrison’s growing resentment nearly made him quit the tour in late November. It became clear that the Beatles wouldn’t continue to work as a band, but it was widely assumed that there would be future collaboration between Lennon and McCartney.  
Media coverage at the time often commented on Lennon and McCartney’s remarkable on-stage chemistry. It was taken as evidence that the two leading band members had finally overcome their differences. Interviews and other promotional events also reinforced the message that they were as close as they had ever been.  
In a press conference in Chicago in early January, McCartney was asked how the band was doing.  
“Very well, actually,” he told a crowd of reporters. “It’s a wonderful opportunity that I wouldn’t want to trade for anything.”  
The video footage shows Lennon rolling his eyes in reaction to McCartney’s words. His muttered, “We love you too, Macca,” elicits a bout of laughter from the audience and a snort from Ringo Starr, who sits beside him. Lennon then continues to speak, looking directly at McCartney, “Paul is right, though. It means a lot that we get to do this. We had to work hard to get to this point. But it’s worth it.”  
In hindsight, the moment is telling: McCartney, caught slightly off guard by Lennon’s comment, opens his mouth to reply, but then meets Lennon’s gaze and falls silent. There’s a moment of stillness where the two of them keep staring at each other before McCartney lowers his head, looking, for all intents and purposes, like a caught-out schoolboy.  
Neither Lennon nor McCartney appear to recall that particular interview. As we show them the clip on YouTube – there’s not a single Beatles interview that you can’t find there either as a transcript or as a recording – they both watch the screen in rapt attention. “God,” McCartney says. “Look how young we were.” He’d been forty at the time.  
“Aww, Paul,” Lennon says as we get to the part we previously described. “Yes, I remember now. It started out as a joke. It was always fun to find ways to wind Paul up in front of the press. Only it suddenly stopped being funny. I recall thinking, distinctly, wow, that just backfired – that was one step too far. We were toeing the line in a lot of these interviews. God, we were really obvious, weren’t we?”

**2**

Of course, neither the reporters nor the audience knew what they were witnessing at the time.  
As every journalist over the past decades, given the chance, we ask about the very beginning – when did John Lennon and Paul McCartney become _McLennon_ , as the internet fan community likes to call it?  
The internet, needless to say, contains a wealth of material exploring and analyzing what a famous magazine once described as one of the greatest love stories of the twentieth century – documentation, speculation, and conspiracy theories, not to mention, a good amount of raunchy fanfiction.  
Lennon and McCartney have given the occasional interview before, but they have been deliberately vague about the beginnings of their intimate relationship. There are still plenty of gaps to fill, insights to be gained. We are journalists, and asking questions is what we do.  
When did John Lennon fall for Paul McCartney?  
“Right in the beginning, I guess,” Lennon says. “There was something about him – I don’t know. I couldn’t put it into words. I just knew that I felt this insane need to be close to him.”  
Right in the beginning – meaning Liverpool, where they met in 1957?  
“Yeah,” Lennon says, sounding very American, and shrugs. “It was always Paul, you know.”  
His shrug holds a wealth of meaning. Being openly gay in England in the late fifties and sixties wasn’t just difficult, it was impossible. Male Homosexuality only became legal in England in 1967. Lennon and McCartney both have admitted to sleeping with female fans during their Beatles years. Lennon married his then-girlfriend Cynthia when she became pregnant with their son Julian in 1962, but he wasn’t faithful to her. “I’m not proud of that”, he says. “I was young. It was accepted at the time. Expected even. I’m not saying that makes it right.”  
It’s not difficult for us to imagine that the Beatles, raising rapidly to overwhelming commercial success and fame, were a lot less tame than their public image suggested. Rumors of a homosexual relationship, however, would have done more than merely harm their reputation.  
“I couldn’t admit it to myself,” Lennon says as we ask him what it was like, being in love with another man at that time. “That I liked Paul that way. Until it became impossible to ignore. Then there was Brian, who was gay, which was an open secret at the time.” Brian Epstein, the band’s manager, became a huge influence in Lennon’s life. “Nobody had a problem with that. Talking to Brian, getting to know him, made me realize that what I wanted from Paul, was, you know, it was _everything_. I wanted to make music with him and perform with him on stage, but I also wanted to do all the other things that I couldn’t talk about. It was always there, for me, all the time.”  
Turning our attention to McCartney, we see him smiling at his partner. “We were both so dramatic back then, darling,” he says, affecting an effeminate voice and fluttering his eyelids, clearly aiming for a bit of levity in a conversation that is anything but easy for either of them. “You should just have made a pass at me.”  
To our surprise, Lennon doesn’t immediately reply. “You know I couldn’t risk that,” he says after a moment, choosing his words carefully – a stark contrast not only to McCartney’s flippancy but also to his own well-known proclivity for strong statements.  
Not for the first time today, we get the impression that there is another layer of meaning to their conversation which we are not privy to. The two exchange a look, and McCartney briefly puts his hand on top of Lennon’s. “You’re lucky I decided to put us both out of our misery, then, and made a pass at _you_ ,” he says, adding, for our benefit, “That was in 1965.”  
During the band’s stay in Paris, before their second visit to the USA – they have admitted as much before, even though they have never revealed the exact circumstances under which they became romantically involved. As McCartney says, sounding faintly apologetic, “It’s private.”  
We are curious – how many of their early love songs did they write with the other one in mind? “None of them. All of them,” Lennon says, contradictory as ever. We recognize that statement as fundamentally true.  
Their relationship, having started under less than ideal circumstances, was complicated, oftentimes fraught – “doomed from the start, really,” McCartney says. “We couldn’t be together in public, and we couldn’t stand _not_ to be together in public. The sixties weren’t the seventies. They weren’t the eighties. It was bad when we were outed, but at least it wasn’t a criminal offense anymore. If we’d been discovered in 1965, everything would have fallen apart. But keeping a secret like this takes such a high toll on you. It poisons you from the inside. You can never let your guard down. You can’t hold hands in public. You can’t snog each other in the studio during a ciggie break.”  
“Well, we still did that,” Lennon says, and the two of them start sniggering. It’s a liberating moment, watching them laugh. They share a knowing glance before Lennon turns serious again. “Part of the problem was that we were queer, but we didn’t want to be.”  
Did their relationship issues contribute to the initial Beatles break-up?  
“It was definitely at the core of it, for me,” Lennon says. “I had to get away from it all. Our dynamic had become very unhealthy. Hurt feelings, resentment, jealousy, professional envy.”  
Lennon’s avenue of escape were drugs. “Drugs. Spirituality. Politics. Not sure which was worse,” he says, tongue-in-cheek.  
McCartney, by his own admission, chose a different coping strategy. “I turned into what you would call a workaholic. I’ve always had a perfectionist streak. That became a lot worse after Brian’s death. Brian had been the only one to know about us, you see. When he died, I was left with this very particular feeling – that everything we had built together was crumbling. John and I were drifting apart. I was losing him, and I dealt with that by throwing myself into work.”

**3**

He tugs at his rolled-up shirt sleeve. Looking up again, he takes a deep breath as if he’s trying to brace himself. “I took me years to realize that my behavior was as damaging to the band as anything John ever did. Especially to Ringo and George.” He affects a mock-serious voice. ‘Ringo, you were a bit too slow there. We really need to step it up a bit.’ ‘No, you have to play the bridge like this, George, come on, let’s do one more take.’ They could do nothing right. But of course, it was all about me. I had this vague idea in the back of my mind that if only I got it right, if I could make everything fit together perfectly, things would start making sense again.”  
Lennon and McCartney ended their relationship in 1968; the Beatles officially split up in 1970.  
“It was all rather bleak,” Lennon says, and refuses to elaborate: “The less said about it, the better.”  
McCartney nods wordlessly and stirs his tea, not meeting anyone’s eyes.  
Janet chooses this moment to rise from her basket and join us at the table. She rests her head on McCartney’s knee, looking up at him with trusting eyes. McCartney gently strokes her ears.  
We decide that we’re no longer going to talk about the sixties. We’re also not going to talk about the seventies, after the Beatles break-up, about the song lyrics of their first solo albums where they made jabs at each other – McCartney’s references rather oblique, Lennon’s far less subtle –, or their marriages to Yoko Ono and Linda McCartney.  
The two have never revealed how they came to be lovers again in 1982. When and how did they get back together?  
They share a glance, and Lennon gives a shrug.  
“In early September,” McCartney says after a moment.  
In early September, the Beatles gave concerts in Paris, Marseille, and Toulouse. Did it happen in Paris?  
“Yes,” Lennon says.  
We respect their right to privacy, but a bit of speculation seems fair game. They first got together in Paris, and Paris was also where they rekindled their relationship in 1982. Coincidence?  
“Well, what do you think?” Lennon says.  
We think not.  
“We were rather naive, in hindsight,” McCartney adds. “We told ourselves we were grown men now, we could handle it. It wouldn’t get out of control. No one would have to know.”  
And no one did know – until the unthinkable happened, figuratively setting their world on fire.  
In late January 1983, a lighting engineer paid by the tabloid press to provide them with insider information on the tour managed to gain access to the private backstage area of a concert hall in Houston, Texas, where he took photos of Lennon and McCartney … Well, how are we meant to phrase this tactfully? Lennon, God bless him, takes pity on us.  
“Photos of me buggering Paul in our dressing room,” he says, laughing. “In front of a mirror, no less, with our trousers pooling around our ankles. Yes, you can print that. We hadn’t locked the door. Which was a bit of a mistake, obviously.”  
That, as they say, is the understatement of the century.  
The subsequent scandal will forever be remembered as one of the most outrageous and extraordinary events in pop cultural history. When the headline broke on January 28th, the Beatles were forced to cancel their tour, and Lennon and McCartney had to be flown out of Texas under police protection to escape both the press and a crowd of enraged homophobic protesters.  
“It was a lynch mob in front of our hotel,” Lennon says. “And I’m not using that word lightly.”  
Their bandmates, their managers, their wives – all of them were woefully unprepared for the catastrophic fallout of Lennon and McCartney’s outing. It took a whole day for their press teams to come up with a joint statement that offered apologies to their families, their fans, and their fellow band members, while asking to respect their privacy. The statement failed to do the one thing that everyone had expected, however: to deny that Lennon and McCartney were romantically involved and had been since their early Beatles days.  
“They wanted us to denounce each other,” McCartney says. “People suggested it to us, very strongly, I should add. They put John and me in different rooms and came down on us hard, with the strategy to pass the whole thing off as some sort of drug-related accident, or what have you.”  
Threats were issued – contract clauses cited, lawyers brought into it, while in front of the hotel, the crowd was growing, and with it, the potential for violence.  
“I could hear them,” McCartney says. “Getting louder by the minute.”  
How does one deal with the pressure in a situation like that?  
“Not well,” McCartney says. “I was scared. I was scared out of my mind. I blamed myself – how could I have been that careless? I was this close to giving in and do what they told me, sign anything they wanted just so it would all go away. But then – I don’t remember who it was, one of the paralegals, I think – well, he suggested making a statement implying that John … That he had been responsible. That he’d coerced me into it.”  
In preparation of this interview, we’ve done our research. But this revelation comes as as shock to us. Judging by the way McCartney smiles at us a moment later, he realizes that too. He nods once. “Those were different times. Anyway – that was the moment I realized that I couldn’t say anything people would take as a sign that we’d done was wrong. You know, in that moment, I wasn’t thinking about my marriage, that I was cheating on my wife. I just thought about John and me. About everything that we’d gone through. We had always known what would happen if we were found out. It was going to be a bloody disaster. And it was. But as I stood there – I recall that I had been getting to my feet, just to be able to hold my ground against them – I heard the crowd chanting outside. And I knew I couldn’t do it.”

**4**

McCartney has to clear his throat before continuing. It’s daunting to see how much the memory affects him even now. “Then, all of a sudden, the door opened with a bang, making everyone jump. And there he was. John, I mean. Looking at me. He walked across the room, then stopped in front of me, and we kept staring at each other. And I thought, ‘Thank god, thank god you’re here, I’m not alone in this.’ I thought, ‘I love you’ – which I’d never said to him before, you know. I’d felt it, but I’d never said it. So there we were, a dozen people surrounding us, all extremely on edge and yelling at each other. And none of them mattered. I said it then. I said, ‘I love you’, right in front of everyone.”  
He looks at Lennon, smiling. “Everything went quiet. They all looked shocked, as if I’d thrown a grenade. Like a bomb had just exploded in front of them. Then John said,“ – he imitates Lennon’s accent – “‘Come on, Macca, let’s blow this joint.’”  
Lennon nods in confirmation, and McCartney concludes, “It wasn’t like it was today. You didn’t just say ‘I love you’ to another man in front of other people. It may not have been illegal anymore, but it certainly wasn’t accepted. Sure, there were plenty of musicians that were gay, but it wasn’t ever acknowledged publicly. It was quite a big deal back then.”  
Again, an understatement. The fallout of the malicious outing of two of the world’s most famous rock stars, both married at the time, was ugly.  
Lennon and McCartney first retreated to New York, then, with the American press out for Beatles blood, to Great Britain, where they hid on McCartney’s farm in Scotland.  
Lennon’s wife, Yoko Ono, issued a supportive statement that made history. “John and Paul have been close. I am not surprised to learn that they are closer than even I knew.” She also emphasized her husband’s right to privacy and stated that she loved him and would continue to do so – whether as a wife or as a friend.  
“I can’t describe you how much it meant to me, that she was capable of doing that,” Lennon says. “I loved her – I still love her – but I’d never stopped loving Paul. Only I couldn’t have him, not back then, so when Yoko came along, I latched onto her. Luckily, Yoko never needed me the same way I needed her. I am grateful that she put up with me for so long, with all the baggage I brought into our relationship. I was falling to pieces when I met her. Being with her allowed me to stitch myself back together, one piece at the time. Back then, I thought loving her meant that I didn’t need Paul any longer. But love isn’t an either-or. The moment I had him back in my life, the connection was there again. You know, Yoko and I come from very different backgrounds. At times, we had to struggle to stay connected, to really understand each other. It’s easier with Paul. There’s so much shared history there – we know each other so well. He gets me in ways that no other person ever has.”  
How did his wife react in private?  
“I think she saw it coming,” Lennon says. “She knew that Paul and I had always had an intense relationship. She knew how excited I was to be working with him again. Everyone thought I only went on the tour for the money, but it was mostly because Paul wanted to make it happen and I wanted to be with Paul. In some ways, I think Yoko was waiting to see what would happen. So when I talked to her on the phone after we’d arrived in New York, she told me straight away that we were welcome to hide in our apartment for a while, but that she was going to take Sean and leave the country to wait out the storm.”  
He brought McCartney into his New York apartment with Ono’s blessing?  
“Yes,” he says. “She was very kind to us, actually.”  
Was it really that easy? We look to McCartney for confirmation.  
“More or less,” he says. “I found it rather difficult to look her in the eye. She ignored me, for the most part, and left in a hurry; which was a blessing, all things considered.”  
Ono and Lennon officially stayed married until their son Sean came off age in 1993.  
Linda McCartney’s reaction was far less understanding. She refused to comment to the press but immediately but filed for divorce, evoking a restraining order that prohibited McCartney from seeing their children.  
Asked about that, McCartney lowers his head. “I’m so sincerely sorry – still, after all these years – for what I did to Linda and the kids. I had never cheated on her. I had never wanted to be that guy. But then I was and I had to take responsibility for that. It nearly broke me to see her pain and know that I had been the one to cause it. She’d always supported me wholeheartedly, she’d loved me in ways that nobody else had, at a time where John couldn’t. She gave me everything – a home, a family, our beautiful children. And I repaid her … well, you know what I did – what _we_ did,” he amends, briefly looking at Lennon. “I’ll always have that on my conscience. You have no idea how grateful I was when she was able to forgive me. Beyond grateful, really – I’m – humbled, I suppose you could say, that she found a way to mend things between and let me back into her life for the sake of our children.”  
Linda and Paul divorced in 1984. She died in 1995 from breast cancer, with McCartney supporting her during her illness. “She was an extraordinary woman” McCartney says. “I don’t regret marrying her, given the circumstances – and our children are a wonderful gift. But I wish it could have been different. That John and I could have been together. It would have saved everyone involved a lot of trouble.”

**5**

The scandal in 1983 war a major earthquake, shaking the foundations of a relationship that had never been built on solid ground.  
“We were slaughtered by the press,” Lennon says. “It was a bloodbath.” He shrugs, though it doesn’t look like he’s as indifferent to the whole thing as he wants us to believe.  
The scandal also broke up the Beatles for a second time – something that McCartney regrets to this day. “This is on us,” he says. “George and Ringo felt we had let them down. They hadn’t known, though they had likely both suspected at times that there was more going on between John and me than we let on. When they found out, they were understandably angry at us. For keeping it a secret and for causing such a stir.”  
Harrison and Starr also had to retreat from the public eye. For years afterwards, they couldn’t make an appearance without being showered with questions about Lennon and McCartney’s relationship and their own possible involvement in it. Had they been helping to cover up their affair? Was either of them gay, too? What about homosexual orgies in their hotel rooms? Had any of them contracted AIDS?  
“When we were outed, they were caught in the backlash. They didn’t deserve that,” McCartney says.  
“We didn’t deserve that either,” Lennon says, frowning.  
It’s obvious they both see these past events through different lenses.  
“Some days, I still feel ashamed of the things I did and the price other people paid for it,” McCartney admits. “John tends to see the political side of it. That we weren’t left with a lot of choices back then.”  
After the 1983 scandal, Lennon and McCartney had little privacy left. Everything they had ever said in front of witnesses, every set of lyrics either of them ever wrote, were analyzed and torn apart on a search for clues – anything that could be taken as a sign of their intimate relationship. Old friends and acquaintances gave interviews, telling sordid stories about their sex and drugs related escapades.  
Lennon admits that he is still furious about the way the press treated them back then. “Loving Paul was the one thing I got right”, he says. “And yet it was the thing that people hated me for.”  
Animosity between Paul fans and John fans reached unknown heights, with each party accusing either Paul or John of seducing the other and thus “ruining” the Beatles. The torrents of abuse poured over them – homophobic “jokes”, slurs, threats, conservative cries of outrage, public smear campaigns – it’s beyond imagination. McCartney in particular was disparaged in the media. He’d often been criticized for writing too many “silly love songs” (a phrase he later turned into a song title), or, as Lennon had phrased it before, “granny shite”. That sort of talk became a lot worse in the aftermath of the scandal. The fact that McCartney had been the receiving partner in his intimate encounter with Lennon was interpreted as a lack of masculinity and used to discredit him further as a songwriter.  
“It was pure nastiness,” McCartney says. “Nastiness, and hatred, and bigotry.”  
In the months following their outing, Lennon and McCartney came close to ending their relationship more than once. Lennon, at his own admission, also came close to taking his own life.  
“I don’t like to talk about that period,” he says, his hands drumming a beat on the table. “It was bad, it became worse, and the worst of all was that it nearly broke us. Us, as in …”  
“McLennon,” McCartney supplies with a smile, clearly aware of the implications.  
Celebrities coming out today often say they find the experience liberating.  
“That’s not how it was for us,” McCartney said. “It was sheer, bloody misery.”  
What saved them, in the end, was stubbornness.  
“I thought, now that we’ve gone through all of this, after everything they’ve thrown at us, we’d be idiots to give up the one thing that was actually worth it,” Lennon says. “If we’d split up, it would all have been for nothing. In retrospect, I think we were somehow trying to get caught during the tour. Not consciously; we weren’t that stupid. But I think neither of us could bear it anymore, the secrecy, the sordidness of it all, the deception. We’d been apart for twelve years and it was killing us, killing our creativity, our passion. For much of the seventies, I felt like I was missing a limb. When I got back together with Paul – not even the sexual side of it, you know, just back together, as in, having him back in my life – it was like I finally knew who I was. I wasn’t ready to give that up. When things got bad, later on, I tried to imagine it. What would have happened after the tour, only seeing Paul on rare occasions, planning trips across the Atlantic so we could be together, cheating on our wives – I could have told Yoko, but Paul couldn’t have told Linda. And then I was nearly grateful to that reporter for taking those pictures. Because without him, we’d have continued to be cowards. We’d have continued to hide. To what end? I don’t know. When I came to realize that, that’s when I felt more at peace.”  
For McCartney, reaching equilibrium took a little longer. “When Linda contacted me in late 1985, telling me that she was fine with me seeing our children again,” he says. “I still remember that day. I was sitting on my kitchen floor, crying, and John came in and asked me what was happening. When I told him what she’s said on the phone, he hugged me, and we held onto each other, very tightly. Two grown-up men, sitting on the floor, just clinging two each other. And I knew it would be okay. _We_ would be okay.”  
And they were – eventually.

**6**

McLane brings us all more tea. More scones. The strawberry jam, we learn, was made by McCartney’s granddaughters. It’s a strange experience for us, sitting at a table with these two men, two of the most famous and, frankly, awe-inspiring celebrities in the world.  
Their careers never fully recovered from the blow they took in 1983, but as McCartney puts it: “We stopped being popular, but that doesn’t mean that we stopped making great music.”  
In what Lennon now calls an “act of sheer defiance” they produced two studio albums as McCartney-Lennon and Lennon-McCartney, collaborating with various artists who, according to Lennon, weren’t afraid to work with “two old queers”.  
On “White Noise Hellscape”, published in 1985, McCartney is the driving musical force. He admits that he went a little overboard trying to prove himself as a songwriter. The arrangements are complex, the melodies haunting, McCartney’s voice strained to the breaking point. It’s an experimental rock album – more “Helter Skelter” than “Hey Jude”.  
“I believe they call it overcompensating,” Lennon says with a wry smile.  
McCartney’s bashful nod tells us that his partner isn’t precisely wrong.  
Their 1987 album, “Flaunting It”, is Lennon’s musical day of reckoning, a biting, sarcastic accounting of everything that he and McCartney went through in the early eighties – a highly political and provocative record. It’s McCartney’s influence that allows it to be more than a series of angry accusations. He’s tempering Lennon’s anger, turning harsh and sometimes downright crude lyrics into something much more poetical, steeped in symbolism.  
“It was the first time that we argued more about the lyrics than the music,” Lennon says. “We’d done simple songs, not-so-simple songs, ambitious songs, Dadaistic songs, but we’d never made songs where we carefully considered every single word.”  
The album also features two very personal pieces – “Here Today” is McCartney’s heartfelt, deeply moving love letter to Lennon, whereas Lennon’s “Photographs”, filled with sexual innuendo, alludes to the pictures taken of them in 1983.  
“The whole album is a bit in-your-face,” Lennon admits. “I don’t regret making it, but Paul was right to put his foot down on some occasions.”  
One of the record’s most remarkable songs, “Yesterday’s Boy”, dedicated to Brian Epstein, openly talks about the struggles of gay men in the sixties and seventies. The third verse addresses the AIDS epidemic. The line “singing dirges in a dark room”, a direct reference to Don McLean’s “American Pie”, was Lennon’s notable contribution, but other than that, it was a song that both partners wrote together “and in complete agreement,” as McCartney phrases it.  
Both “White Noise Hellscape” and “Flaunting It” were received with scathing criticism at the time of their publication. Today, more than thirty years later, they are widely considered musical masterpieces. With the new millennium arose a new appreciation of Lennon and McCartney’s post-Beatles era works. Their record sales reached a new height, even though none of their musical endeavors ever became as commercially successful as the Beatles.  
McCartney and Lennon stopped making albums together in the late eighties. They still collaborated and wrote songs together but preferred to release them on solo records.  
“Working together became a lot easier after we’d been outed,” McCartney says. “Back in the sixties, we kept trying to make music together, but it all went sour. You can’t be unhappy in your relationship and not have it spill over into other areas of your life, not when you’re working together as closely as we did. After the scandal … well, we had the freedom to disagree and try different things, musically, and still be in each other’s lives as much as we wanted to. As much as we needed to.”  
The friendly rivalry between them continues to this day. Lennon still thinks that McCartney’s songs tend to be too corny while McCartney keeps criticizing Lennon’s sloppy compositions. But at the age of 79 and 77 respectively, these two men are far beyond the stage where such petty disagreements threaten to tear them apart. They’ve also come to accept that there are other big names shaping a new era of pop culture. “It’s okay,” Lennon says. “We’re old men, making old men music.”  
Their musical legacy will never be forgotten. Despite the hit their record sales took in 1983, the Beatles remain one of the most commercially successful bands in the world. Not only that, but their music has become a treasured part of queer culture, something the two no longer mind.  
In the immediate aftermath of their outing in 1983, homophobia and hate crimes reached a new height. Nowadays, academics are in vast agreement that Lennon and McCartney’s relationship contributed to the normalization of queerness in Western Europe and the United States in the late eighties and early nineties.  
“We never set out to be figureheads of the gay rights movement,” Lennon says. “It just happened. It took some time to get used to.”  
“We were out, but for first few years, we were still in hiding,” McCartney says. “Part of that was that we felt we needed to protect our families. Things started to settle a little in the late eighties. You see that reflected in our music. ‘White Noise Hellscape’ was an attempt to pretend that nothing had changed. With ‘Flaunting It’, we acknowledged that it had.”  
Time and the change of the social climate made it easier for them to be more open about their relationship. It also allowed them to repair some of the damage done to their social life, and to mend old friendships – last, but not least with their former bandmates.  
They didn’t talk to Harrison for years after the scandal, but that changed when singer Freddie Mercury, frontman of the British rock band Queen, died of AIDS in 1991. McCartney recalls receiving an unexpected phone call from Harrison.  
“He was the one who brought it up,” McCartney says. “Right away, he said that he wanted in, that he was going to be a part of it.”  
They had to bring the Beatles back on stage for the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert – and they did.

**7**

Ringo Starr, who had been in contact with all of them, reestablishing a firm, if slightly strained friendship with Lennon and McCartney after the worst of the scandal had blown over, also agreed, and the Beatles performed six songs on life stage, including Lennon and McCartney’s “Yesterday’s Boy” and a cover version of Queen’s “Being Real”, a song Mercury had written in reaction to the 1983 scandal, which he had said encouraged him to come out to the public in 1986.  
The Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert set a precedent. On rare occasions thereafter, the Beatles made another public appearance – most of them related to various charity events. A notable exception was their MTV Unplugged concert in 1993. When the recording was released on CD and vinyl, the Beatles topped the US and UK album charts for several months.  
The three remaining band mates continued to play under the band’s original name after Harrison’s death in 2001, although those occasions remained far and few in between.  
Lennon and McCartney last performed life on stage in 2016 at a spontaneous protest against the result of the Brexit referendum.  
Is there any chance for another Beatles reunion in near future?  
They’re not ruling it out, Lennon says, but it’s not especially likely.  
Other than that, how are John Lennon and Paul McCartney faring, fifty-five years after they first became lovers in 1965?  
“Very well, actually,” Lennon says. “We’re still rocking it.”  
“There were ups and downs. These days, it’s mostly ups,” McCartney adds. “We’re leading a good life. Things have changed so much since the eighties – people love seeing that we’re still together. That we’re still around, making music, doing what we like best.”  
Lennon and McCartney, individually and as a couple, have faced many different challenges over the years. They lived apart for a period of sixteen months in the early nineties, only to get back together in 1992 during a life performance in San Francisco when Lennon unexpectedly entered the stage and started singing along with McCartney. Photos from their reconciliation – including a passionate on-stage kiss – can be found on the internet, along with the uncensored pictures that led to their outing in 1983, which were uploaded anonymously in 2004.  
Do they mind that these photos still exist?  
“I wish they didn’t,” McCartney says. “I’ve had to accept that they do, but I prefer not to look at them. It was a private moment.”  
“I like them,” Lennon says, candid in a way only a former rebel and revolutionary can be. “They used to get me all hot and bothered. Paul is just sore that it’s me on top.”  
That raises a question they’ve most certainly been asked before. We’re not really comfortable bringing it up – but the curiosity is there, we can’t deny it.  
“You’re just dying to ask, aren’t you?” Lennon teases us good-naturedly. “Well, Paul’s not going to tell you, he’s a gentleman.”  
Implying that Lennon himself has no such misgivings. But his grin makes it obvious that if we really want an answer, we’re going to have to ask. After an afternoon spent with these two, we feel it’s all right to do so.  
“I’m going to tell you one thing we’ve never told anyone else,” Lennon says in a conspiratorial whisper. “That time? Was an exception to the rule. Paul’s always been on top more.”  
At the age of 77, Sir Paul McCartney, we can scarcely believe it, is blushing.  
As the afternoon fades into evening, the time has come for us to leave the Lennon/McCartney household. Tomorrow will be a busy day. McCartney’s grandchildren are due for a visit; Lennon wants to go and see an art exhibition with his son, Julian.  
What else does the future hold for them?  
McCartney laughs. “We don’t know that any more than you do,” he says. “But whatever happens, we’ve had a very good life. When it ends – tomorrow, or even today – it doesn’t end in tragedy. We’re old men now, but we’re both still here – loving each other, supporting each other. It’s a good place to be.”  
As he looks at Lennon, his glance says it all – about the enduring love that hasn’t faded in all these these years, the bond no one has been able to break. It’s a very touching moment between two very special people, and we’re honored to witness it.  
Our last question, as always, is whether there is anything the two of them would like to say to our readers. McCartney politely declines, but Lennon, fully aware of the fact that whatever he says is going to reach an attentive audience, grins like a shark.  
“’Imagine’ is a better song than ‘Yesterday’. There, I said it. What’s more, Paul only got me, but I got him, so that’s a double-win for me.”  
While we’re inwardly groaning at the fact that we’re going to have to print this – after all, we promised – we can hear McCartney laughing softly as the door closes behind us.  
One thing has become perfectly clear: These two are not dead yet – far from it.

_______________

_ Laura Friedman and Thomas H. Baker are American freelance journalists writing for the Rolling Stone magazine, USA Today, Billboard, and various online newspapers. While Friedman holds degrees in pop culture studies and contemporary history, Baker has earned a PhD in music history and a reputation as an expert on twentieth century pop music. In 2018, they teamed up to create a series of outstanding interviews with famous musicians such as Mick Jagger, Madonna, David Gilmour, Jimmy Page, and Peter Gabriel. Their “Having Coffee” project has gained a huge following all over the world. All of Friedman and Baker’s interviews, complete with photos, audio snippets, and background information, can be found on their website. _


	2. Chapter 2

## Having Coffee

## With

## John Lennon and Paul McCartney

  
**_by Laura Friedman and Thomas H. Baker_**  


  
  


It’s February 2020. Sir Paul McCartney (77) and John Lennon (79), founding members of the renowned band The Beatles and one of the most iconic gay couples in history, have invited us for a candid interview into their home in Central London. The two of us have been writing about the music business for years, but even for us, it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get a glimpse into the minds of two living legends.

  
  


Lennon and McCartney prefer to keep their lives private. On their rare public appearances, they tend to avoid answering personal questions – less than surprising, considering the decades of near-constant media attention they had to endure since the Beatles first rose to fame in the early sixties. Their invitation comes at a time where they are living in retirement, splitting their time between their home in London, McCartney’s farm in Scotland, and Lennon’s apartment in New York City. As far as we know, it’s the first time that journalists are allowed on one of their properties.

  
  


We are invited in by Carol McLane, McCartney’s London housekeeper and personal assistant, who tells us that “Paul and John will be down to meet you in a minute.” She leads us into a lovely, light-filled conservatory at the back of the house, dominated by a grand piano and with a table set for four.

  
  
McLane offers us tea, coffee, and fresh scones, confiding that Lennon insisted on baking them himself.

  
  


We jokingly ask whether these scones contain anything that they shouldn’t – after all, both John Lennon and Paul McCartney have a history of substance abuse, especially in earlier years – but McLane assures us Paul and John are no longer consuming recreational drugs at their advanced age.

  
  


Another member of the Lennon/McCartney household joins us after a moment. Janet, a charming, golden brown labrador retriever, has found a home here in London with two of the most famous musicians in the world. We are also introduced to two tabby cats, Nora and Gandhi, dozing on a huge black sofa in the sitting room. We are given to understand that there is a joke involved here – while Janet is Paul’s, the cats belong to John, and they all get along splendidly, despite being … well, like cats and dogs.

  
  


Lennon and McCartney enter the conservatory not long after that. Both are casually dressed: Lennon is wearing jeans and a sweater, McCartney plain gray trousers and a white dress shirt. For two men in their late seventies, both look astonishingly fit. As we say so, McLane’s laughter rings through the room. Lennon flashes us one of his trademark grins. “We're not dead yet.”

  
  


McCartney’s lion’s mane has grown silver. Lennon, still wearing glasses, has cut his hair short in the late nineties but kept his beard. He walks with a slight limp, relying on a cane whenever he leaves the house.

  
  


Lennon tells us that have been around for long enough that they are no longer concerned with their public image. Even so, they haven’t forgotten how to charm the press, and we find ourselves sitting in the sunshine, enjoying scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam, laughing at McCartney’s jokes and Lennon’s quips – feeling privileged to share this moment with them.

  
  


After a bit of small talk, we’re curious to know why the two of them decided to grant us this rare opportunity. Is there anything in particular that they would like to talk about?

  
  


No, McCartney assures us, it’s just that they both felt we had been doing a good job with our interviews and decided they wouldn’t mind talking to us.

  
  


“After 1983, the questions never went away,” he says. “For a long time, we didn’t feel like answering them. Now, perhaps, we can.”

  
  


“We’re going to give you a part of it,” Lennon says. “Not all.”

  
  


The time where Lennon invited reporters into his bedroom for the famous “Bed-ins for Peace” with his former wife Yoko Ono in 1969 is long past. John Lennon continues to be an activist to this day, describing himself as a left-leaning intellectual with strong political views, but his avant-garde days are irrevocably over. These days, he carefully guards his privacy. Or, as he states it, “At some point, I stopped craving public attention.”

  
  


“At some point”, we assume, refers to the notorious Beatles reunion tour in 1982 and 1983, where Lennon and McCartney’s sexual relationship was first revealed to a less than tolerant public.

  
  


It all started in April 1981 when bandmates Lennon, McCartney, and Harrison attended drummer Ringo Starr’s wedding with Barbara Bach. As the hired musicians were talking a break, Lennon and McCartney spontaneously took over the stage with an impromptu performance of some of their greatest hits. Their unexpected gig was met with unbridled enthusiasm. When it made the headlines the very next day, it sparked a new, worldwide interest in a Beatles reunion.

  
  


“I think all of us knew we had to give it another try after that,” McCartney says. “Surprisingly, it was George who really had to be persuaded. He’d become very successful as a solo artist and wasn’t keen on stepping back and reprising what he thought of as a supporting role.”

  
  


The Beatles finally reunited in fall 1981, planning a world tour with eighty concerts in twenty-two countries. Depending on its success – or, as McCartney phrases it, their “ability to work together on stage” – they intended to return to the studio at a later point to work on a new album. The band started rehearsing their old songs and spent two months working to achieve what Lennon describes as “some sort of sound that wasn’t just noise”.

  
  


“It felt important to us not just to deliver a routine performance of our old songs, but to rediscover the meaning behind them – the spirit, if you will, that drove us to make them in the first plac  
e,” McCartney says.

  
  


Lennon immediately puts his partner’s words into perspective: “Not that there was a whole lot of meaning behind some of them, mind you.”

  
  


Asked whether there were disagreements over which songs to play during the tour, Lennon laughs. “Plenty. We found a way to work it out.” While we’re still trying to figure out whether this reference to one of the Beatles’ most popular songs was intentional, Lennon smirks. “It drove Paul nuts when we all objected to his favorites, though.”

  
  


McCartney scrunches up his nose, not looking very happy at the reminder. Apparently, some old wounds are slow to heal.

  
  


Lennon picks up on it too. “We were all sick to the death of ‘Yesterday’. Do you know how much that song had been haunting me? It was a Paul song, and everyone kept bringing it up all the time. It was like a curse I just couldn’t escape.”

  
  


“Even I got tired of playing it at times,” McCartney concedes after a moment.

  
  


Lennon’s motives for agreeing to the tour were the subject of much speculation. He’d never made a secret of the fact that he considered many of the early Beatles songs juvenile and seriously flawed. Money, of course, was cited as a factor, but Lennon himself tried to pass it off as a case of nostalgia. “I’ve come to accept that the music we made still means a lot to a lot of people,” he was quoted in a New York Times interview. “There are many great Beatles songs that we never got to perform life, which is a pity.”

  
  


The Beatles started their reunion tour with a concert in Liverpool in July 1982. It was their first regular stage performance since the late 1960s.

  
  


Across six continents, a new Beatlemania broke out. The Beatles, supported by new electronic equipment, were finally able to be heard on stage, and their performances were widely praised by critics.

  
  


The tour rekindled a worldwide interest in all things Beatles-related – as well as an unhealthy interest in their private lives. 

  
  


The notable absence of Yoko Ono, who had been Lennon’s creative partner since the late Beatles days, sparked rumors. She hadn’t joined her husband on tour, saying, “This is something John has to do for himself,” which immediately led to speculation about an impending divorce.

  
  
Linda McCartney, who had initially visited Paul on weekends along with their children, stopped doing so while the band was touring the United States. The press took it as a sign that the tour was taking a toll on their marriage, something she confirmed in an interview shortly before Christmas: “It’s hard, with Paul being away from us for so long. I know this is important to him, and it’s just as important to me to support him any way I can.”

  
  


“The tour was very exhausting,” McCartney says. “But we had our old songs and knew how to play them, so there was very little left to argue about. That made it an experience I believe we all enjoyed. John and I even started working on new material between shows. In Berlin, on our day off, all four of us went into a little studio to record ‘Never Better’. It was great to see that the spark between us was still there. But I think we knew even then that a new Beatles album wasn’t going to happen.”

  
  


“Never Better”, a rocky tune with plenty of references to their shared past, immediately made it to the top of the charts in thirteen different countries and was consequently added to the roster. Critics were quick to call it one of the best Lennon-McCartney co-productions of all times. George Harrison and Ringo Starr confessed they liked the song, but Harrison also voiced his discontent with the way Lennon and McCartney had handled the recording process. “It was John-and-Paul, Paul-and-John all over again; as if Ringo and I didn’t exist.”

  
  


Harrison’s growing resentment nearly made him quit the tour in late November. It became clear that the Beatles wouldn’t continue to work as a band, but it was widely assumed that there would be future collaboration between Lennon and McCartney.

  
  


Media coverage at the time often commented on Lennon and McCartney’s remarkable on-stage chemistry. It was taken as evidence that the two leading band members had finally overcome their differences. Interviews and other promotional events also reinforced the message that they were as close as they had ever been.

  
  


In a press conference in Chicago in early January, McCartney was asked how the band was doing.

  
  


“Very well, actually,” he told a crowd of reporters. “It’s a wonderful opportunity that I wouldn’t want to trade for anything.”

  
  


The video footage shows Lennon rolling his eyes in reaction to McCartney’s words. His muttered, “We love you too, Macca,” elicits a bout of laughter from the audience and a snort from Ringo Starr, who sits beside him. Lennon then continues to speak, looking directly at McCartney, “Paul is right, though. It means a lot that we get to do this. We had to work hard to get to this point. But it’s worth it.”

  
  


In hindsight, the moment is telling: McCartney, caught slightly off guard by Lennon’s comment, opens his mouth to reply, but then meets Lennon’s gaze and falls silent. There’s a moment of stillness where the two of them keep staring at each other before McCartney lowers his head, looking, for all intents and purposes, like a caught-out schoolboy.

  
  


Neither Lennon nor McCartney appear to recall that particular interview. As we show them the clip on YouTube – there’s not a single Beatles interview that you can’t find there either as a transcript or as a recording – they both watch the screen in rapt attention. “God,” McCartney says. “Look how young we were.” He’d been forty at the time.

  
  


“Aww, Paul,” Lennon says as we get to the part we previously described. “Yes, I remember now. It started out as a joke. It was always fun to find ways to wind Paul up in front of the press. Only it suddenly stopped being funny. I recall thinking, distinctly, wow, that just backfired – that was one step too far. We were toeing the line in a lot of these interviews. God, we were really obvious, weren’t we?”

  
  


Of course, neither the reporters nor the audience knew what they were witnessing at the time.

  
  


As every journalist over the past decades, given the chance, we ask about the very beginning – when did John Lennon and Paul McCartney become _McLennon_ , as the internet fan community likes to call it?

  
  


The internet, needless to say, contains a wealth of material exploring and analyzing what a famous magazine once described as one of the greatest love stories of the twentieth century – documentation, speculation, and conspiracy theories, not to mention, a good amount of raunchy fanfiction. 

  
  


Lennon and McCartney have given the occasional interview before, but they have been deliberately vague about the beginnings of their intimate relationship. There are still plenty of gaps to fill, insights to be gained. We are journalists, and asking questions is what we do.

  
  


When did John Lennon fall for Paul McCartney?

  
  


“Right in the beginning, I guess,” Lennon says. “There was something about him – I don’t know. I couldn’t put it into words. I just knew that I felt this insane need to be close to him.”

  
  


Right in the beginning – meaning Liverpool, where they met in 1957?

  
  


“Yeah,” Lennon says, sounding very American, and shrugs. “It was always Paul, you know.”

  
  


His shrug holds a wealth of meaning. Being openly gay in England in the late fifties and sixties wasn’t just difficult, it was impossible. Male Homosexuality only became legal in England in 1967. Lennon and McCartney both have admitted to sleeping with female fans during their Beatles years. Lennon married his then-girlfriend Cynthia when she became pregnant with their son Julian in 1962, but he wasn’t faithful to her. “I’m not proud of that”, he says. “I was young. It was accepted at the time. Expected even. I’m not saying that makes it right.”

  
  


It’s not difficult for us to imagine that the Beatles, raising rapidly to overwhelming commercial success and fame, were a lot less tame than their public image suggested. Rumors of a homosexual relationship, however, would have done more than merely harm their reputation.

  
  


“I couldn’t admit it to myself,” Lennon says as we ask him what it was like, being in love with another man at that time. “That I liked Paul that way. Until it became impossible to ignore. Then there was Brian, who was gay, which was an open secret at the time.” Brian Epstein, the band’s manager, became a huge influence in Lennon’s life. “Nobody had a problem with that. Talking to Brian, getting to know him, made me realize that what I wanted from Paul, was, you know, it was _everything_. I wanted to make music with him and perform with him on stage, but I also wanted to do all the other things that I couldn’t talk about. It was always there, for me, all the time.”

  
  


Turning our attention to McCartney, we see him smiling at his partner. “We were both so dramatic back then, darling,” he says, affecting an effeminate voice and fluttering his eyelids, clearly aiming for a bit of levity in a conversation that is anything but easy for either of them. “You should just have made a pass at me.”

  
  


To our surprise, Lennon doesn’t immediately reply. “You know I couldn’t risk that,” he says after a moment, choosing his words carefully – a stark contrast not only to McCartney’s flippancy but also to his own well-known proclivity for strong statements.

  
  


Not for the first time today, we get the impression that there is another layer of meaning to their conversation which we are not privy to. The two exchange a look, and McCartney briefly puts his hand on top of Lennon’s.

  
  


“You’re lucky I decided to put us both out of our misery, then, and made a pass at _you_ ,” he says, adding, for our benefit, “That was in 1965.”

  
  


During the band’s stay in Paris, before their second visit to the USA – they have admitted as much before, even though they have never revealed the exact circumstances under which they became romantically involved. As McCartney says, sounding faintly apologetic, “It’s private.”

  
  


We are curious – how many of their early love songs did they write with the other one in mind? “None of them. All of them,” Lennon says, contradictory as ever. We recognize that statement as fundamentally true.

  
  


Their relationship, having started under less than ideal circumstances, was complicated, oftentimes fraught – “doomed from the start, really,” McCartney says. “We couldn’t be together in public, and we couldn’t stand _not_ to be together in public. The sixties weren’t the seventies. They weren’t the eighties. It was bad when we were outed, but at least it wasn’t a criminal offense anymore. If we’d been discovered in 1965, everything would have fallen apart. But keeping a secret like this takes such a high toll on you. It poisons you from the inside. You can never let your guard down. You can’t hold hands in public. You can’t snog each other in the studio during a ciggie break.”

  
  


“Well, we still did that,” Lennon says, and the two of them start sniggering. It’s a liberating moment, watching them laugh. They share a knowing glance before Lennon turns serious again. “Part of the problem was that we were queer, but we didn’t want to be.”

  
  


Did their relationship issues contribute to the initial Beatles break-up?

  
  


“It was definitely at the core of it, for me,” Lennon says. “I had to get away from it all. Our dynamic had become very unhealthy. Hurt feelings, resentment, jealousy, professional envy.”

  
  


Lennon’s avenue of escape were drugs. “Drugs. Spirituality. Politics. Not sure which was worse,” he says, tongue-in-cheek.

  
  


McCartney, by his own admission, chose a different coping strategy. “I turned into what you would call a workaholic. I’ve always had a perfectionist streak. That became a lot worse after Brian’s death. Brian had been the only one to know about us, you see. When he died, I was left with this very particular feeling – that everything we had built together was crumbling. John and I were drifting apart. I was losing him, and I dealt with that by throwing myself into work.”

  
  


He tugs at his rolled-up shirt sleeve. Looking up again, he takes a deep breath as if he’s trying to brace himself. “I took me years to realize that my behavior was as damaging to the band as anything John ever did. Especially to Ringo and George.” He affects a mock-serious voice. ‘Ringo, you were a bit too slow there. We really need to step it up a bit.’ ‘No, you have to play the bridge like this, George, come on, let’s do one more take.’ They could do nothing right. But of course, it was all about me. I had this vague idea in the back of my mind that if only I got it right, if I could make everything fit together perfectly, things would start making sense again.”

  
  


Lennon and McCartney ended their relationship in 1968; the Beatles officially split up in 1970.

  
  


“It was all rather bleak,” Lennon says, and refuses to elaborate: “The less said about it, the better.”

  
  


McCartney nods wordlessly and stirs his tea, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Janet chooses this moment to rise from her basket and join us at the table. She rests her head on McCartney’s knee, looking up at him with trusting eyes. McCartney gently strokes her ears.

  
  


We decide that we’re no longer going to talk about the sixties. We’re also not going to talk about the seventies, after the Beatles break-up, about the song lyrics of their first solo albums where they made jabs at each other – McCartney’s references rather oblique, Lennon’s far less subtle –, or their marriages to Yoko Ono and Linda McCartney.

  
  


The two have never revealed how they came to be lovers again in 1982. When and how did they get back together?

  
  


They share a glance, and Lennon gives a shrug. 

  
  


“In early September,” McCartney says after a moment.

  
  


In early September, the Beatles gave concerts in Paris, Marseille, and Toulouse. Did it happen in Paris?

  
  


“Yes,” Lennon says.

  
  


We respect their right to privacy, but a bit of speculation seems fair game. They first got together in Paris, and Paris was also where they rekindled their relationship in 1982. Coincidence?

  
  


“Well, what do you think?” Lennon says.

  
  


We think not.

  
  


“We were rather naive, in hindsight,” McCartney adds. “We told ourselves we were grown men now, we could handle it. It wouldn’t get out of control. No one would have to know.”

  
  


And no one did know – until the unthinkable happened, figuratively setting their world on fire.

  
  


In late January 1983, a lighting engineer paid by the tablois to provide them with insider information on the tour managed to gain access to the private backstage area of a concert hall in Houston, Texas, where he took photos of Lennon and McCartney … Well, how are we meant to phrase this tactfully? Lennon, God bless him, takes pity on us.

  
  


“Photos of me buggering Paul in our dressing room,” he says, laughing. “In front of a mirror, no less, with our trousers pooling around our ankles. Yes, you can print that. We hadn’t locked the door. Which was a bit of a mistake, obviously.”

  
  


That, as they say, is the understatement of the century.

  
  


The subsequent scandal will forever be remembered as one of the most outrageous and extraordinary events in pop cultural history. When the headline broke on January 28th, the Beatles were forced to cancel their tour, and Lennon and McCartney had to be flown out of Texas under police protection to escape both the press and a crowd of enraged homophobic protesters.

  
  


“It was a lynch mob in front of our hotel,” Lennon says. “And I’m not using that word lightly.”

  
  


Their bandmates, their managers, their wives – all of them were woefully unprepared for the catastrophic fallout of Lennon and McCartney’s outing. It took a whole day for their press teams to come up with a joint statement that offered apologies to their families, their fans, and their fellow band members, while asking to respect their privacy. The statement failed to do the one thing that everyone had expected, however: to deny that Lennon and McCartney were romantically involved and had been since their early Beatles days.

  
  


“They wanted us to denounce each other,” McCartney says. “People suggested it to us, very strongly, I should add. They put John and me in different rooms and came down on us hard, with the strategy to pass the whole thing off as some sort of drug-related accident, or what have you.”

Threats were issued – contract clauses cited, lawyers brought into it, while in front of the hotel, the crowd was growing, and with it, the potential for violence. 

  
  


“I could hear them,” McCartney says. “Getting louder by the minute.”

  
  


How does one deal with the pressure in a situation like that?

  
  


“Not well,” McCartney says. “I was scared. I was scared out of my mind. I blamed myself – how could I have been that careless? I was this close to giving in and do what they told me, sign anything they wanted just so it would all go away. But then – I don’t remember who it was, one of the paralegals, I think – well, he suggested making a statement implying that John … That he had been responsible. That he’d coerced me into it.”

  
  


In preparation of this interview, we’ve done our research. But this revelation comes as as shock to us. Judging by the way McCartney smiles at us a moment later, he realizes that too. He nods once. “Those were different times. Anyway – that was the moment I realized that I couldn’t say anything people would take as a sign that we’d done was wrong. You know, in that moment, I wasn’t thinking about my marriage, that I was cheating on my wife. I just thought about John and me. About everything that we’d gone through. We had always known what would happen if we were found out. It was going to be a bloody disaster. And it was. But as I stood there – I recall that I had been getting to my feet, just to be able to hold my ground against them – I heard the crowd chanting outside. And I knew I couldn’t do it.”

  
  


McCartney has to clear his throat before continuing. It’s daunting to see how much the memory affects him even now. “Then, all of a sudden, the door opened with a bang, making everyone jump. And there he was. John, I mean. Looking at me. He walked across the room, then stopped in front of me, and we kept staring at each other. And I thought, ‘Thank god, thank god you’re here, I’m not alone in this.’ I thought, ‘I love you’ – which I’d never said to him before, you know. I’d felt it, but I’d never said it. So there we were, a dozen people surrounding us, all extremely on edge and yelling at each other. And none of them mattered. I said it then. I said, ‘I love you’, right in front of everyone.”

  
  


He looks at Lennon, smiling. “Everything went quiet. They all looked shocked, as if I’d thrown a grenade. Like a bomb had just exploded in front of them. Then John said,“ – he imitates Lennon’s accent – “‘Come on, Macca, let’s blow this joint.’”

  
  


Lennon nods in confirmation, and McCartney concludes, “It wasn’t like it was today. You didn’t just say ‘I love you’ to another man in front of other people. It may not have been illegal anymore, but it certainly wasn’t accepted. Sure, there were plenty of musicians that were gay, but it wasn’t ever acknowledged publicly. It was quite a big deal back then.”

  
  


Again, an understatement. The fallout of the malicious outing of two of the world’s most famous rock stars, both married at the time, was ugly.

  
  


Lennon and McCartney first retreated to New York, then, with the American press out for Beatles blood, to Great Britain, where they hid on McCartney’s farm in Scotland.

  
  


Lennon’s wife, Yoko Ono, issued a supportive statement that made history. “John and Paul have been close. I am not surprised to learn that they are closer than even I knew.” She also emphasized her husband’s right to privacy and stated that she loved him and would continue to do so – whether as a wife or as a friend.“

  
  


“I can’t describe you how much it meant to me, that she was capable of doing that,” Lennon says. “I loved her – I still love her – but I’d never stopped loving Paul. Only I couldn’t have him, not back then, so when Yoko came along, I latched onto her. Luckily, Yoko never needed me the same way I needed her. I am grateful that she put up with me for so long, with all the baggage I brought into our relationship. I was falling to pieces when I met her. Being with her allowed me to stitch myself back together, one piece at the time. Back then, I thought loving her meant that I didn’t need Paul any longer. But love isn’t an either-or. The moment I had him back in my life, the connection was there again. You know, Yoko and I come from very different backgrounds. At times, we had to struggle to stay connected, to really understand each other. It’s easier with Paul. There’s so much shared history there – we know each other so well. He gets me in ways that no other person ever has.”

  
  


How did his wife react in private?

  
  


“I think she saw it coming,” Lennon says. “She knew that Paul and I had always had an intense relationship. She knew how excited I was to be working with him again. Everyone thought I only went on the tour for the money, but it was mostly because Paul wanted to make it happen and I wanted to be with Paul. In some ways, I think Yoko was waiting to see what would happen. So when I talked to her on the phone after we’d arrived in New York, she told me straight away that we were welcome to hide in our apartment for a while, but that she was going to take Sean and leave the country to wait out the storm.”

  
  


He brought McCartney into his New York apartment with Ono’s blessing?

  
  


“She was very kind to us, actually.”

  
  


Was it really that easy? We look to McCartney for confirmation.

  
  


“More or less,” he says. “I found it rather difficult to look her in the eye. She ignored me, for the most part, and left in a hurry; which was a blessing, all things considered.”

  
  


Ono and Lennon officially stayed married until their son Sean came off age in 1993.

  
  


Linda McCartney’s reaction was far less understanding. She refused to comment to the press but immediately but filed for divorce, evoking a restraining order that prohibited McCartney from seeing their children.

  


Asked about that, McCartney lowers his head. “I’m so sincerely sorry – still, after all these years – for what I did to Linda and the kids. I had never cheated on her. I had never wanted to be that guy. But then I was and I had to take responsibility for that. It nearly broke me to see her pain and know that I had been the one to cause it. She’d always supported me wholeheartedly, she’d loved me in ways that nobody else had, at a time where John couldn’t. She gave me everything – a home, a family, our beautiful children. And I repaid her … well, you know what I did – what _we_ did,” he amends, briefly looking at Lennon. “I’ll always have that on my conscience. You have no idea how grateful I was when she was able to forgive me. Beyond grateful, really – I’m – humbled, I suppose you could say, that she found a way to mend things between and let me back into her life for the sake of our children.”

  
  


Linda and Paul divorced in 1984. She died in 1995 from breast cancer, with McCartney supporting her during her illness. “She was an extraordinary woman” McCartney says. “I don’t regret marrying her, given the circumstances – and our children are a wonderful gift. But I wish it could have been different. That John and I could have been together. It would have saved everyone involved a lot of trouble.”

  
  


The scandal in 1983 war a major earthquake, shaking the foundations of a relationship that had never been built on solid ground.

  
  


“We were slaughtered by the press,” Lennon says. “It was a bloodbath.” He shrugs, though it doesn’t look like he’s as indifferent to the whole thing as he wants us to believe.

  
  


The scandal also broke up the Beatles for a second time – something that McCartney regrets to this day. “This is on us,” he says. “George and Ringo felt we had let them down. They hadn’t known, though they had likely both suspected at times that there was more going on between John and me than we let on. When they found out, they were understandably angry at us. For keeping it a secret and for causing such a stir.”

  
  


Harrison and Starr also had to retreat from the public eye. For years afterwards, they couldn’t make an appearance without being showered with questions about Lennon and McCartney’s relationship and their own possible involvement in it. Had they been helping to cover up their affair? Was either of them gay, too? What about homosexual orgies in their hotel rooms? Had any of them contracted AIDS?

  
  


“When we were outed, they were caught in the backlash. They didn’t deserve that,” McCartney says.

  
  


“We didn’t deserve that either,” Lennon says, frowning.

  
  


It’s obvious they both see these past events through different lenses.

  
  


“Some days, I still feel ashamed of the things I did and the price other people paid for it,” McCartney admits. “John tends to see the political side of it. That we weren’t left with a lot of choices back then.”

  
  


After the 1983 scandal, Lennon and McCartney had little privacy left. Everything they had ever said in front of witnesses, every set of lyrics either of them ever wrote, were analyzed and torn apart on a search for clues – anything that could be taken as a sign of their intimate relationship. Old friends and acquaintances gave interviews, telling sordid stories about their sex and drugs related escapades. 

  
  


Lennon admits that he is still furious about the way the press treated them back then. “Loving Paul was the one thing I got right”, he says. “And yet it was the thing that people hated me for.”

  
  


Animosity between Paul fans and John fans reached unknown heights, with each party accusing either Paul or John of seducing the other and thus “ruining” the Beatles. The torrents of abuse poured over them – homophobic “jokes”, slurs, threats, conservative cries of outrage, public smear campaigns – it’s beyond imagination. McCartney in particular was disparaged in the media. He’d often been criticized for writing too many “silly love songs” (a phrase he later turned into a song title), or, as Lennon had phrased it before, “granny shite”. That sort of talk became a lot worse in the aftermath of the scandal. The fact that McCartney had been the receiving partner in his intimate encounter with Lennon was interpreted as a lack of masculinity and used to discredit him further as a songwriter.

  
  


“It was pure nastiness,” McCartney says. “Nastiness, and hatred, and bigotry.”

  
  


In the months following their outing, Lennon and McCartney came close to ending their relationship more than once. Lennon, at his own admission, also came close to taking his own life. 

  
  


“I don’t like to talk about that period,” he admits, his hands drumming a beat on the table. “It was bad, it became worse, and the worst of all was it nearly broke us. Us, as in …”

  
  


“McLennon,” McCartney supplies with a smile, clearly aware of the implications.

  
  


Celebrities coming out today often say they find the experience liberating.

  
  


“That’s not how it was for us,” McCartney said. “It was sheer, bloody misery.”

  
  


What saved them, in the end, was stubbornness.

  
  


“I thought, now that we’ve gone through all of this, after everything they’ve thrown at us, we’d be idiots to give up the one thing that was actually worth it,” Lennon says. “If we’d split up, it would all have been for nothing. In retrospect, I think we were somehow trying to get caught during the tour. Not consciously; we weren’t that stupid. But I think neither of us could bear it anymore, the secrecy, the sordidness of it all, the deception. We’d been apart for twelve years and it was killing us, killing our creativity, our passion. For much of the seventies, I felt like I was missing a limb. When I got back together with Paul – not even the sexual side of it, you know, just back together, as in, having him back in my life – it was like I finally knew who I was. I wasn’t ready to give that up. When things got bad, later on, I tried to imagine it. What would have happened after the tour, only seeing Paul on rare occasions, planning trips across the Atlantic so we could be together, cheating on our wives – I could have told Yoko, but Paul couldn’t have told Linda. And then I was nearly grateful to that reporter for taking those pictures. Because without him, we’d have continued to be cowards. We’d have continued to hide. To what end? I don’t know. When I came to realize that, that’s when I felt more at peace.”

  
  


For McCartney, reaching equilibrium took a little longer. “When Linda contacted me in late 1985, telling me that she was fine with me seeing our children again,” he says. “I still remember that day. I was sitting on my kitchen floor, crying, and John came in and asked me what was happening. When I told him what she’s said on the phone, he hugged me, and we held onto each other, very tightly. Two grown-up men, sitting on the floor, just clinging two each other. And I knew it would be okay. _We_ would be okay.”

  
  


And they were – eventually.

  
  


McLane brings us all more tea. More scones. The strawberry jam, we learn, was made by McCartney’s granddaughters. It’s a strange experience for us, sitting at a table with these two men, two of the most famous and, frankly, awe-inspiring celebrities in the world.

  
  


Their careers never fully recovered from the blow they took in 1983, but as McCartney puts it: “We stopped being popular, but that doesn’t mean that we stopped making great music.”

  
  


In what Lennon now calls an “act of sheer defiance” they produced two studio albums as McCartney-Lennon and Lennon-McCartney, collaborating with various artists who, according to Lennon, weren’t afraid to work with “two old queers”.

  
  


On “White Noise Hellscape”, published in 1985, McCartney is the driving musical force. He admits that he went a little overboard trying to prove himself as a songwriter. The arrangements are complex, the melodies haunting, McCartney’s voice strained to the breaking point. It’s an experimental rock album – more “Helter Skelter” than “Hey Jude”.

“I believe they call it overcompensating,” Lennon says with a wry smile.

  
  


McCartney’s bashful nod tells us that his partner isn’t precisely wrong.

  
  


Their 1987 album, “Flaunting It”, is Lennon’s musical day of reckoning, a biting, sarcastic accounting of everything that he and McCartney went through in the early eighties – a highly political and provocative record. It’s McCartney’s influence that allows it to be more than a series of angry accusations. He’s tempering Lennon’s anger, turning harsh and sometimes downright crude lyrics into something much more poetical, steeped in symbolism.

  
  


“It was the first time that we argued more about the lyrics than the music,” Lennon says. “We’d done simple songs, not-so-simple songs, ambitious songs, Dadaistic songs, but we’d never made songs where we carefully considered every single word.”

  
  


The album also features two very personal pieces – “Here Today” is McCartney’s heartfelt, deeply moving love letter to Lennon, whereas Lennon’s “Photographs”, filled with sexual innuendo, alludes to the pictures taken of them in 1983.

  
  


“The whole album is a bit in-your-face,” Lennon admits. “I don’t regret making it, but Paul was right to put his foot down on some occasions.”

One of the record’s most remarkable songs, “Yesterday’s Boy”, dedicated to Brian Epstein, openly talks about the struggles of gay men in the sixties and seventies. The third verse addresses the AIDS epidemic. The line “singing dirges in a dark room”, a direct reference to Don McLean’s “American Pie”, was Lennon’s notable contribution, but other than that, it was a song that both partners wrote together “and in complete agreement,” as McCartney phrases it.

  
  


Both “White Noise Hellscape” and “Flaunting It” were received with scathing criticism at the time of their publication. Today, more than thirty years later, they are widely considered musical masterpieces. With the new millennium arose a new appreciation of Lennon and McCartney’s post-Beatles era works. Their record sales reached a new height, even though none of their musical endeavors ever became as commercially successful as the Beatles.

  
  


McCartney and Lennon stopped making albums together in the late eighties. They still collaborated and wrote songs together but preferred to release them on solo records.

  
  


“Working together became a lot easier after we’d been outed,” McCartney says. “Back in the sixties, we kept trying to make music together, but it all went sour. You can’t be unhappy in your relationship and not have it spill over into other areas of your life, not when you’re working together as closely as we did. After the scandal … well, we had the freedom to disagree and try different things, musically, and still be in each other’s lives as much as we wanted to. As much as we needed to.”

  
  


The friendly rivalry between them continues to this day. Lennon still thinks that McCartney’s songs tend to be too corny while McCartney keeps criticizing Lennon’s sloppy compositions. But at the age of 79 and 77 respectively, these two men are far beyond the stage where such petty disagreements threaten to tear them apart. They’ve also come to accept that there are other big names shaping a new era of pop culture. “It’s okay,” Lennon says. “We’re old men, making old men music.”

  
  


Their musical legacy will never be forgotten. Despite the hit their record sales took in 1983, the Beatles remain one of the most commercially successful bands in the world. Not only that, but their music has become a treasured part of queer culture, something the two no longer mind.

  
  


In the immediate aftermath of their outing in 1983, homophobia and hate crimes reached a new height. Nowadays, academics are in vast agreement that Lennon and McCartney’s relationship contributed to the normalization of queerness in Western Europe and the United States in the late eighties and early nineties.

  
  


“We never set out to be figureheads of the gay rights movement,” Lennon says. “It just happened. It took some time to get used to.”

  
  


“We were out, but for first few years, we were still in hiding,” McCartney says. “Part of that was that we felt we needed to protect our families. Things started to settle a little in the late eighties. You see that reflected in our music. ‘White Noise Hellscape’ was an attempt to pretend that nothing had changed. With ‘Flaunting It’, we acknowledged that it had.”

  
  


Time and the change of the social climate made it easier for them to be more open about their relationship. It also allowed them to repair some of the damage done to their social life, and to mend old friendships – last, but not least with their former bandmates.

  
  


They didn’t talk to Harrison for years after the scandal, but that changed when singer Freddie Mercury, frontman of the British rock band Queen, died of AIDS in 1991. McCartney recalls receiving an unexpected phone call from Harrison.

  
  


“He was the one who brought it up,” McCartney says. “Right away, he said that he wanted in, that he was going to be a part of it.”

  
They had to bring the Beatles back on stage for the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert – and they did.

  
  


Ringo Starr, who had been in contact with all of them, reestablishing a firm, if slightly strained friendship with Lennon and McCartney after the worst of the scandal had blown over, also agreed, and the Beatles performed six songs on life stage, including Lennon and McCartney’s “Yesterday’s Boy” and a cover version of Queen’s “Being Real”, a song Mercury had written in reaction to the 1983 scandal, which he had said encouraged him to come out to the public in 1986.

  
  


The Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert set a precedent. On rare occasions thereafter, the Beatles made another public appearance – most of them related to various charity events. A notable exception was their MTV Unplugged concert in 1993. When the recording was released on CD and vinyl, the Beatles topped the US and UK album charts for several months.

  
  


The three remaining band mates continued to play under the band’s original name after Harrison’s death in 2001, although those occasions remained far and few in between.

  
  


Lennon and McCartney last performed life on stage in 2016 at a spontaneous protest against the result of the Brexit referendum.

  
  


Is there any chance for another Beatles reunion in near future?

  
  


They’re not ruling it out, Lennon says, but it’s not especially likely.

  
  


Other than that, how are John Lennon and Paul McCartney faring, fifty-five years after they first became lovers in 1965?

  
  


“Very well, actually,” Lennon says. “We’re still rocking it.”

  
  


“There were ups and downs. These days, it’s mostly ups,” McCartney adds. “We’re leading a good life. Things have changed so much since the eighties – people love seeing that we’re still together. That we’re still around, making music, doing what we like best.”

  
  


Lennon and McCartney, individually and as a couple, have faced many different challenges over the years. They lived apart for a period of sixteen months in the early nineties, only to get back together in 1992 during a life performance in San Francisco when Lennon unexpectedly entered the stage and started singing along with McCartney. Photos from their reconciliation – including a passionate on-stage kiss – can be found on the internet, along with the uncensored pictures that led to their outing in 1983, which were uploaded anonymously in 2004.

  
  


Do they mind that these photos still exist?

  
  


“I wish they didn’t,” McCartney says. “I’ve had to accept that they do, but I prefer not to look at them. It was a private moment.”

  
  


I like them,” Lennon says, candid in a way only a former rebel and revolutionary can be. “They used to get me all hot and bothered. Paul is just sore that it’s me on top.”

  
  


That raises a question they’ve most certainly been asked before. We’re not really comfortable bringing it up – but the curiosity is there, we can’t deny it.

  
  


“You’re just dying to ask, aren’t you?” Lennon teases us good-naturedly. “Well, Paul’s not going to tell you, he’s a gentleman.”

  
  


Implying that Lennon himself has no such misgivings. But his grin makes it obvious that if we really want an answer, we’re going to have to ask. After an afternoon spent with these two, we feel it’s all right to do so.

  
  


“I’m going to tell you one thing we’ve never told anyone else,” Lennon says in a conspiratorial whisper. “That time? Was an exception to the rule. Paul’s always been on top more.”

  
  


At the age of 77, Sir Paul McCartney, we can scarcely believe it, is blushing.

  
  


As the afternoon fades into evening, the time has come for us to leave the Lennon/McCartney household. Tomorrow will be a busy day. McCartney’s grandchildren are due for a visit; Lennon wants to go and see an art exhibition with his son, Julian.

  
  


What else does the future hold for them?

  
  


McCartney laughs. “We don’t know that any more than you do,” he says. “But whatever happens, we’ve had a very good life. When it ends – tomorrow, or even today – it doesn’t end in tragedy. We’re old men now, but we’re both still here – loving each other, supporting each other. It’s a good place to be.” 

As he looks at Lennon, his glance says it all – about the enduring love that hasn’t faded in all these these years, the bond no one has been able to break. It’s a very touching moment between two very special people, and we’re honored to witness it.

  
  


Our last question, as always, is whether there is anything the two of them would like to say to our readers. McCartney politely declines, but Lennon, fully aware of the fact that whatever he says is going to reach an attentive audience, grins like a shark.

  
  


“’Imagine’ is a better song than ‘Yesterday’. There, I said it. What’s more, Paul only got me, but I got him, so that’s a double-win for me.”

While we’re inwardly groaning at the fact that we’re going to have to print this – after all, we promised – we can hear McCartney laughing softly as the door closes behind us.

  
  


One thing has become perfectly clear: These two are not dead yet – far from it.

  
  
  


______________________

  


_ Laura Friedman and Thomas H. Baker are American freelance journalists writing for the Rolling Stone magazine, USA Today, Billboard, and various online newspapers. While Friedman holds degrees in pop culture studies and contemporary history, Baker has earned a PhD in music history and a reputation as an expert on twentieth century pop music. In 2018, they teamed up to create a series of outstanding interviews with famous musicians such as Mick Jagger, Madonna, David Gilmour, Jimmy Page, and Peter Gabriel. Their “Having Coffee” project has gained a huge following all over the world. All of Friedman and Baker’s interviews, complete with photos, audio snippets, and background information, can be found on their website. _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea for this fic when I dived headfirst into the abyss of McLennon and realized that there are actually very few fix-it fics on AO3 that explore John’s and Paul’s relationship in later years. I’m aware that this kind of fic is very difficult to pull off. Writing RPF is always a tightrope act - you have to spend an unhealthy amount of time and energy delving deep into the private lives of real people. That’s why, instead of a more conventional third person alternate reality fic, I decided to use a format that allowed me to give some sort of summary of their time together, exploring certain aspects of their lives and leaving others to the imagination. Thus, Laura Friedman and Thomas H. Baker were born.  
>   
> The idea that John and Paul first got together in Paris isn’t new. Plenty of fanfics use their holiday in Paris in 1961 as an opportunity to bring them together. Before I started writing this fic, I’d just read ["The Last Time I Saw Paris"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14819592/chapters/34293156) by Celebratory Penguin, an established relationship fic taking place in 1965, and I decided to use the same time period as the beginning of John’s and Paul’s sexual relationship for this fic.  
>   
> I also felt the strong need to bring add some Queen references. I assume that if John and Paul had been a couple in 1983, the spreading of AIDS would have been a major concern to them. Queen performed “Imagine” life on several occasions after John had been shot. “Being Real” doesn’t exist, but ["Life Is Real (Song For Lennon)"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wl20NGS3VF8) is an actual song that Freddie Mercury wrote for Queen’s 1982 album “Hot Space”. Freddie was a total John Lennon fanboy - seriously, just check out [this interview on YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OFljyR6E-I4&t=32s). But since John doesn’t die in this universe, Freddie couldn’t write that song, which is why he wrote another one - in my mind, is about John’s and Paul’s courage and perseverance after they had been outed.  
>   
> I also relished the idea of Yoko Ono being more or less cool with McLennon. She is such a stunning character. Methinks that it was her influence that forced John Lennon to grow up a little. I also believe he might have been a real handful as a partner, and it isn’t difficult for me to imagine that she got tired of being the object of his fixation at some point … That said, I don’t know anything about their relationship, and I’m not trying to presume.  
>   
> The section where Paul says, “We were both so dramatic back then, darling. You should just have made a pass at me,” is inspired by an interview Paul gave in the eighties, responding to the rumors that John had been attracted to men. Acting deliberately camp, he stated that if John had been gay, he would have expected him to make a pass at him. (The only source I’ve been able to find is [a somewhat questionable YouTube video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=quKDjHnVA7E&t=351s) \- the relevant part starts at around 11:20.  
>   
> In the unlikely casse someone doesn't know, ["Here Today"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FjwnWU6OsaI>) is an actual song by Paul written about John after his death, in which he sings “I love you”. It breaks my heart every single time I hear it. Oh, Paul, we’re missing him too.  
>   
> One more thing: John’s final remark on “Yesterday” and “Imagine” does NOT reflect my personal opinion. But I thought it was something John might say, still being salty at 79.


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